


A World Gone Mad

by muse_in_absentia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_in_absentia/pseuds/muse_in_absentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The realization that he may have not so platonic feelings for Remus lead Sirius to some realizations about himself and his family, and maybe, to start healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World Gone Mad

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the R/S Games 2014. As always, thanks to my beta for all the help.
> 
> Also, title shamelessly stolen from Ave Mary A by P!nk.

A calm but determined breeze tumbled its way down Grimmauld Place until it found the only open window and burst through. It caused green and silver brocade curtains to twitch as it circled past a half-open heavy wooden wardrobe with balled up robes spilling out. Pausing briefly at posters that it curiously couldn’t crinkle, it finally reached its destination, ruffling silky black hair and bringing with it the petrol-scented heat of a late London summer but none of the light or cheer that ought to come with that.

Sirius didn’t need to catch any of the words of the muffled yelling that was coming from downstairs to know that it was his mother making certain that nothing spoiled the dinner she had planned. Her shrill staccato was mixed with the low rumbling baritone of his father’s business meeting still in session and the percussive clink of silver being polished to make up the discordant melody that was life at Number 12.

The smell of the meal already being prepared wafted up, and Sirius wrinkled his nose. It smelled heavy and rich, just the sort of thing his mother loved, and he hated in the summer heat.

Sirius sighed and flicked his wand lazily at the old wizarding wireless radio turning up the volume a couple of decibels, despite its crackling in complaint. He had charmed it to pick up muggle stations back in fourth year, which had turned out to be a far simpler task than charming a muggle radio to work with no electricity.

A door slammed suddenly, rattling the open window hard enough that flecks of white paint fluttered to the floor. _Bad manners,_ he thought idly. _Must be Lestrange, no one else would dare._  
Shaking his head, he summoned one of the rumpled magazines he kept in a stack under his heavy wrought iron four poster, not worrying about getting caught using magic. There was enough magic going on in 12 Grimmauld Place to cover for his occasional usage, and neither of his parents would turn him in for underage magic and bring what they saw as more shame upon the “Most Noble and Ancient House of Black”. Wondering if it meant the Black madness was catching up with him, Sirius almost wished that he would be caught, just to shove it in their faces that he still existed, that he could still affect their lives. Almost.

He didn’t recognize the song that was playing, but it was upbeat and loud, exactly what he needed to drown out his mother’s current rampage. Her temper was fierce but swift and he knew if he just waited it out a few more minutes the screaming would stop and once again the only background noise would be the radio.

With a sigh and a quick toss of his head to get his perfectly groomed black hair out of his eyes, he frowned at the pictures in the muggle magazines that he’d had James buy for him towards the end of last term, which were annoyingly still. Scantily clad muggle girls were draped in lewd poses on the bikes obscuring any clear view he might have had of the engines. How was he ever supposed to learn about the inner workings of the motorcycles depicted if the pictures didn’t move around?

“Bloody Prongs. Can’t trust him to know what’s important.” Staring blankly at a bare spot on his pale green wall, between posters taken from his motorcycle magazines and enlarged so he could at least see the bikes, as if it held the answers to what he was missing in those pictures Sirius flung the magazine to the floor in frustration where it landed with a thwack.

Sirius’ grumbled complaints about his best friend’s need to have everything covered in half naked women were interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. He didn’t bother to hide the muggle magazine before opening the door, or turn down the muggle music.

Regulus looked him over and sneered disdainfully, taking in his jeans and tee-shirt that he rebelliously wore around the house rather than the formal — and stiflingly hot — robes that Kreacher dutifully laid out for him every morning and he unceremoniously dumped in the wardrobe as soon as the muttering houself left. “Mother says you are to turn off that—” he paused, lip curling, “noise.”

Sirius snorted at his brother, who looked infuriatingly cool in his slate grey linen robes, although he did take a step back from the swell of heat that spilled out from Sirius’ room into the much cooler and dimly lit hallway. Warily eying his father down the hall Sirius judged him to be too far to hear when he replied in a quiet hiss, “It’s my room and my music, and since when have I ever cared what that harpy says?”

A blow caught him on the cheek that snapped Sirius’ head around sharply. Apparently he had been wrong about how good his father’s hearing was. “You will not speak that way about Walburga.” Orion’s voice was cold as with a flick of his wand the music was silenced.

It had been that way ever since he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Always Walburga or Orion, never mother or father anymore, as if they couldn’t bring themselves to acknowledge the familial connection.

Tasting metal, Sirius spat blood on the polished mahogany floor narrowly missing his father’s gleaming Italian dress shoes.

He expected the second blow and refused to give the satisfaction of a flinch. When he glared back through his now slightly swollen right eye he saw Regulus smirking from behind their father’s shoulder and he had the brief urge to hex his little brother, but it was washed away in the tidal wave of Orion’s anger.

“You,” Orion’s voice was clipped, coming from between clenched teeth, “will clean that up.” He sneered down his nose at where Sirius had spit a moment earlier, his wand pointed at Sirius’ chest. “And you will put on robes befitting of your… tenuous… station in a good pureblood family.”

“I don’t give a niffler’s backside about pureblood or not pureblood, but I am not putting on sweltering robes in this heat.”

A swish of Orion’s wand and Sirius was suddenly much cooler as his clothes vanished. “Then you will wear nothing. I don’t know what you get up to at that school.” Regulus opened his mouth then snapped it shut again as Orion continued. “Nor do I care, but while you are in my house there will be no more of _those_ clothes.”

Regulus laughed outright and the prospect of this story being spread around Hogwarts by his little brother was somehow more humiliating for Sirius than his current nude state.

His chin jutted out stubbornly as he spoke in a deliberately disinterested voice. “I hear Mother invited my simpering cousin as well as Malfoy for dinner tonight because she didn’t trust dear Aunty Druella not to pick as poorly as she did for darling, delicate Bella. No doubt trying to help marry Narcissa off as quickly as possible, before anyone realizes just how insipid she actually is. Perhaps I should show up for dinner like this, tell them it’s on your orders.” He allowed himself a small smile at the thought of the chaos that would cause before he noticed the slightly purple color his father’s face had started to turn. Undeterred, he continued. “Hell, maybe Malfoy will even enjoy it. I always thought he might prefer –“ he paused and let his smile get a little wider. “-well, not Narcissa, anyway.”

Sirius could tell that even Regulus knew he had gone too far by how quickly the color drained from his face, his eyes, only slightly darker grey than Sirius’ own, going extremely wide as Orion pointed his wand. The Constriction Curse was a favorite of his father’s when he wanted a captive audience. Unlike a full body bind it allowed the recipient to react and respond, but not get up and leave unless they were made of stronger stuff than Sirius was. He was never sure if his father used it so often because he was made to listen, or because it was just painful enough he couldn’t ignore it. At least, he couldn’t the first few times. However, much like with anything, frequent exposure dulls the reaction, and now he tuned out his father before he had even begun lecturing.

A particularly strong muscle contraction made him feel as though he were going to shrivel in on himself and every nerve ending felt like it had been doused in manticore bile, which, when they were in third year and Peter had accidentally spilled his dropper of the stuff in potions class, they had discovered could eat through anything. Not only had it eaten through the heavy wood table he dripped it on, but right through the stone floor beneath it. He couldn’t remember the last time his father cursed him this strongly, and he briefly toyed with the idea that Malfoy had been his father’s idea rather than his mother’s. It did make good business sense to merge with the Malfoys.

His muscled relaxed briefly and he took a shuddering breath before he felt another serge of muscle spasms and retreated into his memory. They had all teased Peter while Slughorn had tried, and failed, to find a way to clean the bile up. Eventually they had had to call in Flitwick to simply charm the floor closed again rather than repair the damage. Even Remus, who routinely mucked his potions up, had not managed to top that disaster. Sirius even managed to call up a smile at the look of relief he remember in Remus’ golden-brown eyes as he whispered, “Thank Merlin it wasn’t me this time,” into Sirius’ ear before trying to reassure Peter that it would once again be his turn next class, the breath on the side of his neck causing Sirius to shiver in ways that at not-quite-fourteen he was not at all ready to comprehend.

His breathing was ragged and his jaw was locked up from clenching it, trying to keep silent. The pain ended abruptly while he was still lost in his head, only his father’s deep voice wrenching him back to reality.

“You will find appropriate robes to wear down to supper and you will behave as is befitting your place in this house if I have to Imperius you. I will not tolerate this sort of behavior out of you any longer. Now clean up this disgusting mess.”

Orion stalked off down the hall, shoes clacking loudly with each stride, never looking back to see that he was being obeyed. Sirius was left standing in his doorway nude and shaking from his muscles attempting, and failing, to unclench. He watched with empty eyes as Regulus scurried after their father, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs.

Limping back to his room and collapsing on his unmade bed, the green sheets damp from the humidity, he didn’t bother to find new clothes. At least he was cooler without them.

He feared that the story of this incident would be all over the Slytherin dungeon before the first week of term was up, but somehow, even that knowledge wasn’t enough to dampen his desire to return to school, even if it did mean the start of sixth year and the rush towards N.E.W.T.s.

Oh, and cooling charms. He was quite certain his mother had insisted that Kreacher stop placing the cooling charms on his room just before summer began to drive him into the rest of the house where she would have free rein to insult him as she chose. It was a battle of wills to see how long he could last in the insufferable heat and constant smell of stale sweat that he couldn’t quite clear out no matter how many freshening charms he cast. As summer neared its end he was determined to make it until he could return to school, despite his near constant sticky skin and clothes that could be wrung out.

School. Sirius had managed to spend his entire summer dutifully _not_ thinking about it, rather distracting himself with an ever growing daydream of someday owning a flying motorbike. He even went so far as to owl James and ask him to send anything he could get his hands on that had information about them by way of unrecognizable owl so that his parents wouldn’t know he had it. The heat, and the lack of a magazine that he hadn’t read approximately twenty-three times, however, were proving to be a constant struggle for his willpower.

The mattress creaked as he tried curling up on his side, but his muscles seized causing him to wince and take a couple of deep breaths. Stretching flat on his back he pretended to be able to ignore his trepidations about returning, despite the promise of cooling charms. Sure, Prongs had eventually started speaking to him again, at least by owl, and he was quite sure that if Prongs was speaking to him then so was Wormtail (if the unspoken rule that Peter didn’t do anything without James’ approval was still in effect). Remus, on the other hand, would probably never speak to him again. Not that Sirius really blamed him.

Even months later he couldn’t rationalize what he had come to think of as The Incident. He didn’t even have a clear memory of how it had happened. One moment Snivellus was spewing his usual bile, the next Sirius was in Dumbledore’s office with no real connection in his mind from one to the next.

He had tried to apologize to Moony. He even meant it. Moony knew he meant it, too, which was what made the silence even harder. There had been no yelling, no recriminations, no punches thrown, just those eyes. Those damned eyes that had lost all their shine.

That had been very nearly the end of term, right after O.W.L.s, and in the time between The Incident and the end of term Remus hadn’t spoken a single word to him. His usually quiet yet devious friend had simply drifted about the castle, burying himself in books and speaking to no one. His nose never wrinkled up in amusement anymore. He never pursed his lips in a futile attempt to look disapproving of some incredibly against the rules prank that had none-the-less managed to impress him. He never laughed at Padfoot’s antics, although, truthfully, Sirius hadn’t once become Padfoot, not sure he wanted to be rejected in both forms. His eyes never crinkled up at the corners when he smiled, because he no longer smiled. No more of the little sardonic quirking of his lips that made Sirius catch his breath when he wasn’t paying attention. No more of the smiles that lit up his whole face and never failed to make Sirius stop and remind himself to make Remus laugh more often. No more shine.

An inarticulate growl spilled from his throat as he rolled over and punched the wall at the thought that one stupid act had been enough to break the strongest person he knew. He ran his fingers, now aching, through his damp hair, taking a shaky breath that felt as if he were breathing underwater in the oppressive heat. He was starting to suspect that Kreacher had not only removed the cooling charms but in fact had added warming ones.

He knew that Remus would need more than the week between exams and the start of hols to stop being angry. He didn’t even blame him for it. However, he had never gone a summer without a veritable storm of owls from his friends, and having received only a few from James and none from Peter or Remus at all he was starting to worry that his friend was never going to forgive him, and he wasn’t quite sure what he would do without him. It would divide them all.

Cursing, he grabbed back up the magazine he had flung aside in frustration before Regulus interrupted, determined to distract himself, the sweat from his fingertips wrinkling the pages slightly. Very carefully and slowly, he tipped his head until he was practically hanging off the side of his bed in an attempt to get a better look behind the blonde in a leopard-print bikini who was draped inelegantly over the handlebars of the bike on page 27, his hair fell into his grey eyes from the new angle.

He tried to swipe the hair out of the way, but the muscles in his arm twinged and he rolled back up onto the bed. _Well, this isn’t working,_ he thought bitterly. Before he had the chance to stand and try and stretch out he heard the grandfather clock chime 6 o’clock. Time to show his face for the promise of food.

*****  
Sirius slunk down the stairs, the clinking of silverware informing him that he was indeed late. Begrudgingly, he was wearing his lightest set of robes, a soft butter color cotton-blend that at the very least breathed. His mother gave him a pointed look as he slid into his seat between her and Narcissa at the long table, but she didn’t draw attention to his being late by actually saying anything.

Narcissa, however, didn’t have the same level of tact. “Oh, did you get lost on your way down, baby cousin?” She gave a toss of her blonde hair, which landed in a perfect waterfall down her back, contrasting nicely against her pale lavender robes. She looked like a peacock lost among a flock of ravens, her robes the only color in a sea of black and grey. Spearing an asparagus stalk swimming in butter she turned her back to him and smiled brightly at Lucius Malfoy sitting across from her, signifying that he was not to answer. Lucius returned the smile with an appraising one of his own, eyes lingering on the heavy amethysts at her ears and the Black family crest etched into the heavy silver pendant at her neck.

Sirius rolled his eyes when he thought no one was looking. He caught Regulus almost smile at that, before he remembered where they were. “It must be the lack of anything garishly red that confused him, cousin.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Regulus was casting nervous little glances at their guests to see if he had spoken out of turn.

Sighing, Sirius bit back the pithy reply that nearly slipped out out of habit alone. Sometimes when he was angry he forgot that Regulus was just a kid, and one who was still looking to please their parents and make up for his older brother’s shortcomings. Sirius didn’t begrudge him his safety from their tempers, at least not much or often.

Watching disinterestedly Sirius wrinkled his nose at the plates of stroganoff that replaced the antipasto and buttered vegetables that had made up the first course, the smell of the rich cream sauce turning his stomach sour. The food was probably delicious, and he might have enjoyed it at another time, but cream had never sat well with him when it was hot out. 

He took an overly large mouthful of the pinot noir that had been paired with supper to cover the taste of bile in the back of his throat. When his mother frowned at him for it he did it again.

“It’s quite all right, Walburga,” Lucius cut in with an air of derision. “No one at this table expects a blood traitor of a Gryffindor to have any sort of manners.”

Narcissa gave a nasal little giggle that made Sirius wince. His mother’s voice cracked through the air almost immediately. “Sirius Black, you _will_ learn to sit still like a proper wizard without fidgeting, one way or another.” There wasn’t enough time for him to spit out a biting reply before he found himself suddenly in a full body bind.

_And right after a Constriction Curse, too,_ he thought bitterly as the meal continued on around him. _I’ll be lucky if I’m walking again by morning._

Forced to stay that way, he tried desperately not to listen to the inane chatter as they all lingered over their fruit tortes and chilled chardonnay. He was sure he would never get the sight of the curio cabinet, holding some of his mother’s favorite cursed oddities, to fade after being stuck staring at it the entire time.

Having been released to limp up to his room only after all the guests had left and the meal had been cleaned up around him, Sirius sank down on his bed, fatigued. Lying flat on his back he began very slowly rolling out his ankles before working his way up to his knees and then up farther. His joints popped painfully with every motion, but he kept at it. It was a routine he had developed years ago for slowly returning his muscles to their normal state when whatever punishment his parents had felt the need to dole out that day was bad enough to warrant it.

He focused all his thoughts on a very slow count to one hundred for each muscle. It was well over an hour before he tried to stand to change for bed.

Halfway through getting into his pajamas Sirius sank down onto the bed, his legs trembling beyond his control. He hadn’t had enough food over the last couple of days to account for how long he had been kept immobilized. Walburga had ordered Kreacher at the start of hols that he was not to have any food that was not served at the table with the rest of them. Idly he wondered what James’ had smuggled into his room for midnight snacking. If living with the boy at Hogwarts had taught him anything it was that James _always_ had a stash of food.

Lost in his musings about late night kitchen raids and James’ indefatigable appetite, Sirius didn’t realize he had been moving until he found himself outside, fully clothed, with his trunk packed and shrunk in his pocket, Grimmauld place invisible a block behind him. 

“Bugger,” he muttered quietly to himself. It would be impossible to sneak back in now, the wards were much stronger trying to get in than out, and it was a miracle he got out in the first place. If his parents thought for a second he had done anything more interesting than collapse after that dinner, he would be locked in for the remainder of hols. With a small shrug he turned and held his wand arm out for the Knight Bus. No help for it, he would just have to go to James.

When the vibrant purple bus careened up, he reached into his pocket and pulled out, and paid with, a few sickles from a heavy purse he hadn’t realized he had taken. Settling in to a seat, he looked around bemusedly at the handful of other passengers. Most of them were dozing fitfully, unable to properly sleep on the lurching bus, though the elderly wizard on the brass bed next to him was snoring. Sirius wondered if he looked as ordinary as they did, sitting there with his mug of hot chocolate, calmly watching the world spin by to the sound of squealing tires. A young witch with a sleeping child in tow kept giving him funny looks, but he ignored her in favor of watching the whirlwind of muted color out the window as the bus ricocheted down narrow streets.

A small part of his brain realized that he had in effect just run away from home, but the reality of that had not fully caught up with him yet, as he had no clear idea how it had happened. One moment he had been pondering if he could owl James to sneak him some food to stash in his room and the next he had been walking down the street. He wondered when he had stopped caring, when it became much easier to not care about anything than to have to worry about the hard things anymore. Finding no acceptable answer he simply closed his eyes and waited for his stop to be called.

It could have been minutes or hours when, after repeated prodding from the driver that they were in fact at his stop, the bus finally let him off in front of the Potter’s rural pale blue Victorian. The row of trees, which he knew from James’ stories led to a small pond, were barely visible in the dark, and the white eaves of the house appeared a dull grey. He was nearly to the door to knock when the chirp of crickets reminded him that they probably wouldn’t take too kindly to his waking them in the middle of the night. Unable to get away with using magic now that he was no longer at Grimmauld Place, he realized he would have to resort to Marauder ingenuity and subtlety. He would have to use finesse and intelligence. He resorted to throwing rocks at James’ second story bay window until a disheveled head leaned out.

“What the bloody…” James trailed off when he realized what he was seeing. “Go around front,” he called quietly.

Sirius walked back around to the front of the house, for the first time noticing the dew on the grass had soaked his trainers through. Looking down at them for a moment his brow furrowed as if only realizing that he even had feet. He was still staring down when he felt a warm cloak drop around his shoulders. Head snapping up he saw James had come outside and was now trying to very quietly prod Sirius into moving. Wondering how long James had been out there Sirius followed his friend inside and up to his meticulous bedroom, sinking onto the bed which creaked slightly beneath him.

“Is this a one night sort of thing, or have you finally left for good?” James asked, skipping directly over tact and plowing forward with a bluntness that Sirius found refreshing after the mind games at Grimmauld Place.

Thinking about how to answer when he himself wasn’t entirely sure, Sirius let his eyes wander around the room, taking in the neatly folded pile of laundry, the polished broom standing in the corner and the school trunk at the end of the bed. They finally settled on a half-eaten bag of crisps sitting on top of a heavy mahogany dresser. His stomach growled so loudly that he actually glanced down at it. “Oh, that’s right. I haven’t actually eaten.”  
The surprise in his voice caused James to visibly startle. “And you forgot that fact? Merlin, what did they do to you, Padfoot?”  
“Full body bind through dinner. I apparently didn’t find Lucius Malfoy nearly as funny as I was supposed to. Nothing abnormal.”

James let out a few choice curses and stalked out of the room. Sirius briefly entertained the thought that he had finally found James’ breaking point and wondered what he would do if even James didn’t want him anymore. Before he had reached any real conclusions, however, his nose was assaulted with the most wonderful smell of cold turkey and warm bread. His head snapped up and he realized that James was holding a plate out for him to take.

“It’s just a bit of supper left with a quick warming charm, but it’s…“ James stopped as Sirius reached out and started eating with a speed that was alarming. “Just how long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

Sirius looked down at the plate that was already mostly empty. “A day,” he paused, then shrugged, “maybe two. I lost track of the days after a while.” He ate the last couple of bites and was just about to comment on Mrs. Potter’s cooking when he realized that it would be a lie as he never really tasted the food he had inhaled, just used it to stop his stomach churning.

“All right, so are you here for good, Pads? Is this the sort of thing I should wake my parents for?”

Sirius sighed. “I don’t honestly know. I think, maybe, I am. Or at least a couple of days until I can figure out somewhere to go. I didn’t really mean to impose on your parents, I just didn’t know where else I could go.” He busied himself pulling off his trainers and burying his toes in the thick caramel colored carpet so as not to have to see what might be in James’ hazel eyes.

“What happened, Sirius?”

The use of his name, not Padfoot. James sat down beside him and patted his shoulder when he didn’t answer right away. “Did you finally get sick of how they treat you? I mean, we all know how horrible they are to you, if Regulus’ attitude is anything to go by.”

He considered mentioning that he was fairly certain that Regulus only treated him that way because their parents expected him to, but decided that that probably wasn’t really the part he was supposed to be focusing on. “I just,” he shook his head, unable finish. He didn’t really know how to explain that he hadn’t really left, except for the fact that he had. There had been no breaking point, no screaming fight or final act of horror that he couldn’t take any longer. He had simply just been not there anymore.

“It’s alright,” James said quietly, taking pity on him. “We’ll worry about it tomorrow. Why don’t you try and get some rest.”

Not really sure if he was tired or not, Sirius dutifully curled up in a small corner of James’ bed. James threw the handmade quilt that he always carted back and forth to school — the one in shades of Gryffendor red and gold that his mother had made for him when he had been sorted — lightly over his chest.

“I’m just going to go let my parents know what happened. I’ll be back in a bit. Try and rest, Pads. It will all be okay.”

Unable to discern if James was being placating or if he truly meant that, Sirius closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him from consciously void to unconsciously so.

*****

When sunlight tumbled carelessly between soft white curtains and woke Sirius, the first thing that he noticed was that his bed was much cooler than he remembered it being at any point so far this summer, and the sheets were dry. The second thing he noticed was that his head was throbbing with an intensity that was nearly blinding. He counted thirty-two heartbeats pulsing in his left temple before the pounding started to blend together and he stopped counting. It was simply too much work to even think about trying to clean the sleep out of his eyes. _That’s what I get for trying to sleep off a combination of mobility restricting curses,_ he thought bitterly.

Suddenly the sight of red cotton sheets beneath him rather than green silk reminded him that he was no longer at Grimmauld Place and could, in fact, ask for a headache potion. He was about to sit up and beg one out of James when his ears finally kicked in only to hear the sound of turning pages. Wondering vaguely when Prongs had taken up reading he sat up groggily, only to find that it wasn’t James at all. The door to James’ room was open and he could hear both James and Peter talking in what amounted to quiet for teenage boys to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but he assumed that if Peter had shown up then it was probably about him. That left only one option.

Turning to face the window seat his breath caught in his chest when he saw Remus, framed by the fluttering curtains, sitting with one knee tucked up and a book propped against it. The sunlight turned his sandy hair, which was falling across his eyes, into an autumn forest of gold and red and brown. Sirius blinked a couple of times just to make himself not stare. Suddenly he found himself shaking in a way that even leaving home couldn’t do. “Remus,” he barely breathed the name, but the werewolf turned anyway, his eyes unreadable.

Remus didn’t say anything, but he did tuck his book away and watch Sirius, who was now fidgeting with the quilt tucked up around him. Finally he sighed and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “What are we going to do with you, Sirius?”

Pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, Sirius buried his face on his own thighs for a moment trying to remember how to breathe, his tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth and his eyes prickling with tears he hoped desperately wouldn’t start to spill, the soft blanket brushing his cheek gently as he rocked slightly. He tried to speak a couple of times, but nothing came out, words turning sour in his mouth before they could tumble out.

Words of apology rattled around his pulsing head, nearly suffocating him with their need to escape again, but as he drew a shaky breath he could smell the old parchment and crushed autumn leaves that always seems to radiate gently from the young man watching him warily, and he gasped, the tears leaving damp trails down his cheek when they refused to be contained anymore. He could taste the salt, but refused to pick his head up and wipe at his face. Finally, he felt the bed dip at his side as Remus shifted closer.

“You… you’re…” he choked, unable to express just what it meant to him to have the werewolf sitting there.

“Yes, well, James was really worried about you. Said you wouldn’t tell him what happened. I think he was hoping my being here would shock it out of you.” He paused, then added, dryly, “He also left you a headache potion as well as a pain potion. Said you looked like shite and would probably need them this morning.”

Sirius wisely decided not to mention that that didn’t mean Remus had had to actually show up as he stifled his tears to be able to choke down both potions in quick succession and then dropped his head back to his knees again.

Remus was sitting so close that Sirius could feel the warmth radiating off him and it nearly made the tears start again, though he had just barely managed to contain them seconds before. He wanted to reach out and touch, to feel scarred skin and lean muscle and _Remus_ , to make sure this was real, but he didn’t dare take the liberty.

“I…” He trailed off, still unsure how to explain what had happened.

“Hmm?” Remus hummed in question, but didn’t press the issue, and Sirius was incredibly grateful for his friend’s considerable patience, no matter how often he liked to test its limits. Just having Remus there, even as distant as he was being, made breathing a bit easier.

“I can’t feel anything,” he finally blurted. He felt his face warm. That wasn’t what he had been trying to say at all.

“Oh, Padfoot,” Remus murmured. “That’s just shock. Give it a couple of days and you and James will be creating havoc everywhere you go, and everything will be back to normal.”

Sirius wanted to scream, to tell him that this was normal, that he had been numb for years, but the use of his nickname, and the fact that Remus was still sitting there, not quite looking at him, but not moving away either, made him hold his tongue.

“How do you do that?” he whispered instead. When Remus didn’t say anything he finally picked his heavy head up from his knees and looked into the soft brown eyes he had been missing so desperately. He took an unsteady breath, which still smelled of Remus. “You make me better.” Even Sirius wasn’t sure if he meant that Remus made him feel better or that Remus made him a better person. He decided it didn’t really matter.

Before Remus had a chance to respond James and Peter came bounding into the room and flung themselves onto the bed. Despite the crowd and the incessant chatter that sprang up, which Sirius was doing his best to follow, he held Remus’ gaze until Remus finally shook his head and gave a small smile.

“James.”

James kept prattling about how nice it was to have Remus visit, and how much they had missed him, and how he and Peter had wheedled food for the four of them out of his mother while they were explaining why her house was suddenly overrun with teenage boys.

“James,” Sirius tried again.

“And maybe later we can all go into town and look for —“

“Prongs.” Remus quiet voice cut through the surrounding noise easily.

James stopped mid-sentence and looked expectantly at Remus, who had spoken up when Sirius had been ignored twice.

“I think Sirius is trying to get your attention.”

James’ face lit up when he realized that not only was Remus sitting in the same room as Sirius but was actively paying attention to him again. “Well, it’s not like we could possibly have forgotten about him, the great melodramatic prat; comes waltzing in during the middle of the night like I actually care about his sorry arse.” The sting of his words was mellowed when he flung an arm around Sirius.

“Did you mention something about your mother’s cooking?” Sirius asked quietly, trying very hard to smile at his friends when all he wanted was to be left alone to drink in the sight of Remus maybe, possibly, having forgiven him at least a little bit.

James bounced off the bed to go in search of breakfast and Peter followed behind him after a quick glance between Remus and Sirius. “Glad you’re here, mate. That place was bad for you.” Their blonde friend smiled once, then called after James to remind him that food should come in quantities enough for everyone, not just Sirius.

“Thank you,” Sirius whispered, locking eyes with Remus once again.

Remus didn’t answer, but he also didn’t look away.

*****

The last day of summer hols found James and Sirius huddled around a steaming cauldron they had set up down by the pond where no adults could see them. They were both still dripping from swimming while they waited for the steam to start up.

“Is it supposed to be teal like that?” James asked, flipping through the crumbling potions book in his lap.

Sirius flung a towel at him. “Dry your hands before you touch that! And I think so, at least until we add the last of the juniper berries, which, if I am not mistaken, we should be doing in about two more minutes.”

Before Sirius could toss the package of berries he pulled from his pocket at James’ head Remus’ tawny owl, Toffee, swooped down and landed on James’ knee. Not wanting to know if Remus said anything about him, and knowing he couldn’t keep himself from asking, he clambered to his feet. “I think I’ll go and grab the fireworks now. You add those berries, Prongs.”

James gave him a knowing look, but let him leave. Taking his time Sirius wondered through the empty Potter house. James’ parents had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up a last few school supplies before they were to catch the train the next day, so he didn’t have to be careful about how long he took.

He climbed the stairs slowly, and walked into the room that he now shared with James and started digging around under the bed that had been moved in there for him. Tossing aside a pair of dirty socks that hadn’t made it to the laundry, a crumpled up piece of parchment and a bottle of pimple potion that had rolled under there, he finally emerged with a case of wet-start fireworks, dusty but grinning.

As he turned to head back down to the water’s edge he heard a tapping at the window. Looking behind him, Sirius saw a familiar looking owl and he quickly opened the window. The large bird swooped inside and held out its leg for him to remove the tiny scroll. As soon as he had it in his hand the owl took off again.

Unrolling the small parchment he frowned when he recognized the handwriting.

_Sirius. Don’t respond to this. I just thought you ought to know that mum blasted you off the family tapestry. I’m sorry._

_R._

He read the letter over a couple of times before walking slowly into the bathroom where he lit it on fire with a muggle lighter he had picked up in the village the week prior so that they would be able to brew potions without their wands. When there was nothing left but ash he ran the water in the sink washing the last traces down the drain and headed back outside.

Back down by the water’s edge he found James just sending Toffee on his way. 

“Did you get those berries in on time, Prongs?”

“Of course I did. What do you take me for, Padfoot?”

“A great bloody git, of course.” Sirius forced a laugh and the cauldron behind James gave a great belch of chartreuse smoke and immediately settled down. Peering down at the innocuous looking clear liquid both boys turned matching grins on each other. “So,” Sirius smirked, “We just dip the fireworks in the Exponential Elixir and they explode with four times the display?”

“That is the theory. It’s supposed to amplify the result of anything you dip in it.” Pulling a pinwheel out of the case James handed it to Sirius. “Do the honors, Padfoot?”

“With pleasure, Prongs.” The firework hit the potion with a small plop. “How long do you think we —“ The cauldron exploded cutting off Sirius as the firework ignited, launching itself into a nearby ash tree which promptly burst into flames. Twin shouts of despair went up but before either of them had the chance to so much as draw their wands a jet of water hit the blazing tree, extinguishing the flames.

“Thanks, dad,” James muttered, hanging his head while surreptitiously pocketing the bottle of the elixir he had scooped up while the firework was soaking.

With a sigh and a flick of his wand the elder Potter righted the mess and banished it all back to James’ room. “Just don’t tell your mother. Now why don’t you boys go finish packing? Supper will be ready shortly.”

Sirius slept poorly, tossing and trying not to wake James as his mind raced. Now that it was time to go back to school he was no longer sure he was ready to face Remus again, and all the different ways it could go in the morning kept circling around in his head, chasing each other until he finally fell into a light doze plagued with dreams of Remus and Regulus joining together against him.  
When they finally boarded the Hogwarts Express the next morning, after a sleepy scramble to get everyone out the door, Sirius managed to just barely keep himself from looking around for their sandy haired friend, reminding himself that just because he sent James an owl didn’t suddenly mean he was forgiven, or that Remus would be joining them. He would probably go sit with the other prefects like he had at the end of last term.

However, much to his surprise, Remus joined the rest of them in their traditional compartment with a loud curse, dropping his trunk in the corner. He took a seat next to Peter and listened to James retell the story of the exploding potion from the day before. 

“Looks like even those two gits can blow up a cauldron once in a while,” Peter grinned.

“Oi, at least we brewed it correctly,” James exclaimed.

“Just forgot how it was supposed to work,” Remus added with a snort.

“Well, at least we didn’t melt the cauldron, unlike some people we know.”

Remus stood slowly, pulling his wand. “Say that again, Potter.”

“Taking bets?” Sirius asked Peter, smirking.

“Not a chance. We both know Moony will win this.

“Oi!” James turned to glare at them both, which gave Remus the chance to get off the first spell. Soon the compartment was filled with brightly colored hexes flinging back and forth at high speeds. Eventually the duel was called when James lost spectacularly with little green horns sprouting all over his face.

Not much later Lily Evans, who had heard from Marlene McKinnon that James had been hexed, peered into their compartment. “I heard you finally looked like the troll you are, Potter, but I had to see for myself.”

Both Sirius and Remus attacked with silencing charms before he could get more than “I’m always horn—” out of his mouth, both of them certain that there was no way he could have finished that statement that wouldn’t have ended in further damage at the hands of the redhead. With another giggle Lily turned and left again and Remus caught Sirius’ eye over James’ shoulder, chuckling silently. Sirius flashed the most charming smile he could manage, his heart beating double time. Remus shook his head, but he did give just the hint of a smile in return.

Life in their dormitory was nearly back to normal, and after a couple of weeks, when Sirius was convinced that Remus wasn’t going to just disappear again, he nearly attempted to start a conversation, just for the sake of hearing his friend’s voice directed at him again. Every time he opened his mouth, however, his stomach flipped over and his breathing became labored and he gave up, choosing to let the werewolf be the one to make that leap.

It was nearing the beginning of October when it finally happened. Sirius was sitting in a nearly empty common room waiting for James to come back from Quidditch. Peter had gone to watch practice and with the exception of a precocious fifth-year getting a head start on studying for her O.W.L.s, and sneaking glances at him which he was pretending not to notice, he was alone. Sitting in front of the fireplace, he was staring at his charms textbook hoping the words would sink in without his needing to actually read them. The flames were warm on his face, turning the pages of his book a faint orange and he slouched down in the squishy armchair, the scent of crackling wood making him drowsy.  
Only the thud of books being dropped onto the table in front of him kept him from falling asleep. He jumped and spun around to find Remus curling up in the scarlet armchair next to the one he was currently occupying and glaring at the heavy potions text he had just flung down. “How did you lot manage to convince me to take N.E.W.T. level potions? Do I have you or Prongs to blame for the Confundus I was clearly under at the time?” He had his feet tucked up to his left and was curled around in a small ball so he was facing Sirius, who was just managing to keep back the obvious cat reference, mostly due to the fact that he was too busy gaping at Remus. Remus, who appeared more comfortable in his presence than he had in months.  
Sirius felt his cheeks warm at the look Remus was leveling at him and he had to fight the very sudden urge to lean over, tangle his fingers in that soft looking hair and snog his friend senseless. _Well, that clears that up,_ he thought bitterly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way the firelight made Remus’ skin go all golden and his eyes glint. _It’s bad enough I have to be a pouf, but did it really have to be Remus? He’s barely speaking to me as it is._ Denial was something Sirius had long since given up on; right around the time he realized that it was Daniel O’Connor’s arse, rather than his older sister Bridget’s, that made him gasp behind his curtains when he had his hand down his pants late at night. He had come to terms with that fact, but this new revelation made his chest tighten in very unpleasant ways.

“Do I have something on my face, Sirius?” Remus tilted up the left side of his mouth in just the hint of a smile and Sirius forgot how to breathe.

_Fuck, fuck, buggering fuck!_ “Nope, not a thing, Moony.”

Remus frowned slightly. Sirius realized, too late, that he had used his nickname; something he hadn’t dared to try since The Incident. He winced inwardly, waiting for the admonishment, or for Remus to get up and leave, but neither happened. Chewing on the inside of his lip Remus seemed to consider for a moment, then his shoulders slumped slightly and he reached for his text.

“Well, since I consider it entirely your fault I’m stuck in this blasted class, I leave it up to you to make sure I pass it.”

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief Sirius flashed his most charming smile and held out his hand for the textbook. “All right, what don’t you understand?”

Remus handed over _Perfecting Potion Production,_ which was being used as a supplemental reading for lessons that weren’t completely covered in _Advanced Potion Making._ “Umm, everything?” As he passed the book over his fingers just barely grazed Sirius’ and Sirius dug the nails of his free hand into his palm hard enough to draw blood; or it would have drawn blood if that brief touch of his friend’s skin hadn’t sent all his blood south. _Don’t touch. Don’t touch. Don’t touch._

Breathing rapidly, and hoping Remus wouldn’t notice, he pulled the book into his lap and opened it, flipping casually to the chapter on the assigned potions. “Well, we were discussing the pros and cons of using a Dreaming Draught rather than a Sleeping Solution for healing purposes. You would think that would be something you would be familiar enough with.”

Remus frowned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and Sirius fought the desire to reach out and smooth those little lines for him. “I understand the difference between the two from a patient’s perspective, but I have very little concept of the medical difference from a healer’s point of view, as I’m usually not very coherent when I come in contact with them. I mean, I understand that some of the ingredients in a Dreaming Draught will have terrible reactions with other healing potions, and the same can be said for a Sleeping Solution, but I think I must have dozed off around when we were discussing why.”

“That’s probably because we didn’t discuss why. I think the point of the essay is to figure out a few examples on our own.”

“Well, then I’m well and truly buggered. I can barely figure out how ingredients are going to react with each other when it’s all spelled out for me in the directions.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, then schooled his face into something resembling serious, biting on his lip to keep the laughter from spilling out and offending Remus. Not to mention trying to hide just how much the idea of a well buggered Remus appealed to him suddenly.

“What’s so funny?”

Both Sirius and Remus jumped at the voice behind them. Turning Sirius saw James, dripping with sweat, just about to lean over his chair and peer at the book as if it were some diary of the best pranks ever. Peter, who had come in with him, took the smarter approach and went to sit on the floor, having summoned a cushion from one of the couches across the room. He looked between Sirius and Remus, but didn’t say anything.

“Prongs, if you drip on my hair I will swap out the contents of your secret bottle of lotion with invisibility cream and just wait for the next time you wank over Evans.”

“How did you – I mean I don’t have – I mean, I think I’ll go shower now. It’s just nice to see you two talking again.” Peter and Remus both burst out laughing as James made a quick escape to the dorm room.

Sirius snorted. “It’s nice to know that he’ll never change,” he muttered. “All right, Moony,” he took a quick breath and pressed on, hoping that Remus would continue to let the name slide. “I’ll help you through this, but I have a price.”

“Well, seeing as though you already owe me for getting me into this mess in the first place I don’t see how that’s even remotely—“

“Just get me through this bloody Charms essay, will you?” Sirius cut him off. Remus’ voice had taken on that tone that he privately called the Prefect Affect, and he wanted to head that off as quickly as possible. They had been having a pleasant evening up till that point.

Remus’ jaw dropped.

“You’ve never had a problem with Charms before,” Peter cut in, his blue eyes wide.

Sirius grumbled and flicked his wand at his Charms textbook where it briefly turned into a swarm of fireflies and then back again. “I just don’t see the difference between charming something alive and transfiguring it into something that’s alive. And the transfiguration process is a whole lot easier.”

“Well, that’s subject to debate, Padfoot. Most people find the charm much easier since there is only the one,” Remus said, shaking his head at Sirius showing off.

“Besides,” Peter added, “When you charm something alive it doesn’t actually feel, because you aren’t making it really alive, just giving it motion. If you transfigure it it’s actually alive, and then you can’t, say, eat a chocolate frog that’s hopping around the room because it would be a live frog.”

“Hungry, Pete?” Sirius asked, laughing.

Peter shrugged, eyeing the licorice wand that was poking out the top of Remus’ fraying bag.

“Well, I am,” Sirius continued. “What do you lads say to a kitchen raid?”

Peter was on his feet quickly, but Remus just sat looking at his Potions text which Sirius had set on the table next to his own Charms text. “We can work on Potions tomorrow, Remus. It’s Friday. Give it a break, I can practically hear your stomach from here.”

Remus looked up at him, and finally he smiled and nodded. “All right.”

Sirius felt something in his chest warm at the sight of that smile, and he cursed his heart for beating double time. _You will not muck this up._

“Coming, Pads?” Remus and Peter were already at the portrait hole while his suddenly leaden feet had stayed motionless. Jogging quickly over to join his friends and finding Remus smiling at him like everything was okay suddenly made all the past months melt away. It was amazing what having his friends around could do to fill the hollow place inside him that his family had built.

*****

The sunlight streaming through his partially opened curtains told Sirius that he had slept later than usual. The room was quiet and he briefly wondered if his friends had let him sleep through class before he remembered that it was Saturday and they had probably left for breakfast without him. The thought of bacon was nearly enough to drag him from bed, but the heavy lethargy that had taken him over after their late night kitchen raid the night before hadn’t left him yet and instead he rolled over and buried his head under his red comforters and closed his eyes.

Only the creak of springs and the weight that dropped onto his bed kept him from falling back to sleep.

“Get up, Padfoot.”

Sirius shook his head from under the covers. “Don’t want to, Prongs.”

“But there’s breakfast,” James wheedled. Sirius knew that his mate was worried. He never missed the chance for bacon. Bacon was simply too pedestrian to be served at Grimmauld Place and he always made up for it while at Hogwarts.

“Bugger breakfast.” The covers flew from his bed and landed in a pile on Peter’s. “And you’re getting those cleaned. Who knows what’s on Wormtail’s bed.”

James waved him off, bouncing on the bed a couple of times until he knocked his glasses off. “Come on, Pads, you’ve been nothing but miserable for months. I know you were upset that Remus stopped talking to you, but honestly, you can’t blame the bloke. And besides, everything is back to normal now, so what’s the problem?”

Sitting up, Sirius grabbed up the glasses and held them away from James just to watch him flounder for a couple of minutes, eventually relenting when the scruffy haired boy nearly fell off the bed reaching for the bedpost.

“Fine, let’s go have breakfast. Do you intend to sit there and watch me get dressed?”

James shook his head. “Something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”

Sirius really hated how his best mate knew him so well. “What makes you think that? Because I said let’s go have some bacon?”

James just stared at him until he looked away.

“Fine, you want to be a couple of birds about it then you might as well sit.”

“That bad?” James asked quietly.

“Probably worse.”

“Does this have anything to do with you being totally bent?”

Sirius spluttered for a moment, then flicked his wand and hit James with a pillow the he summoned from Remus’ bed. “You knew?”

“Hard not to, when you practically start drooling every time Martin Gregory bends over in Herbology.”

Sirius grabbed up the pillow that had just accosted James and arranged it into his lap in an attempt to look like he was settling in for a long conversation and not like he was trying to hide just how much interest his cock was taking in that image. He might have it bad for Remus, who he could still smell faintly on the pillow in his lap, but that didn’t mean that Martin Gregory didn’t have a spectacular arse, tight and pert and...

Suddenly Sirius sneezed violently, and periwinkle bubbles shot out of his nose and bounced all over the room, settling on scarlet bed-curtains, end tables, trunks, a few even made a break for it out the window. He glared at James who was twirling his wand and looking completely unrepentant.

“That’s what you get for going all glassy eyed thinking about Gregory’s arse.”

Sirius felt his face heat up and busied himself poking at one of the bubbles which had landed on his knee. It refused to burst so he hit it with a mild engorgement charm until it was twice the size of his head.

“Pads.” James banished the bubble to float around their common room.

Sighing Sirius squeezed his grey eyes shut. “How did you know you were in love with Lily?”

James made an undignified squawking sound and dropped his wand. As he bent to retrieve it his face took on that I-am-all-mature-now look that Sirius had only seen once before, on the night he had run away. “You’re in love with Gregory?”

“Of course not, you prat.”

“Oh, thank Merlin! And well, because she’s Lily, you know?”

“But how did you know that it was love? I mean, I know that you fancy the hell out of her, and that it’s not for the reasons everyone else thinks. I mean, you actually _like_ the fact that she hexes you silly when you’re being a git because you know you’re being a git and if she didn’t hex you it would mean she didn’t know.”

“Sirius, as usual, I have no idea what you are talking about,” James said loftily while staring at his bitten fingernails.

“Fancying Lily does not mean you love Lily. How did you know?”

“I suppose,” James said quietly, “it’s because even though she hates me, when she’s around she makes me better; or at the very least, makes me want to be better.”

“Well bugger.”  
James flung an arm around Sirius. “Has the great Sirius Black finally fallen in love?” Sirius just dropped his head into his hands. “That doesn’t look like I should be congratulating you.”  
“How do you deal with it, Prongs?”

“Well, you tell the lucky bloke – oh, that might not go over too well, huh?”

“No, not that part, although, it probably wouldn’t. No, it definitely wouldn’t, all things considered. The part about being in love with someone who can barely tolerate your presence. How do you deal with that, Prongs?” Sirius sniffed a couple of times, then brushed his hair out of his face and squared his shoulders looking up and locking eyes with James’ hazel ones.

“Please, please tell me it’s not Snivellus.”

Sirius made loud gagging noises. “Please, I have better taste than that.”

“Then who…” James trailed off and his eyes darkened. “Sirius.” Sirius ignored him. “This someone wouldn’t have a very good reason to be angry with you, would they? Maybe have just recently started speaking to you again?”

Sirius still said nothing, but he felt his face getting red, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from chewing on his lower lip.

“Sirius, that’s a really bad idea.”

“I know, Prongs. It’s not like I’m going to jump him or anything. I mean, I didn’t exactly choose this, you know?”

James’ eyes softened slightly. “Yeah, I know. Well, at least we can be lonely together, mate.”

“I think, right now, I’d like to be lonely alone. I’m going to take a shower. Save me some bacon?” James turned slightly red and suddenly found the stone floor exceptionally fascinating. “Prongs, what did you do?”

With a quick glance at the window and a muttered Finite Incantatem the light in the room suddenly dimmed considerably. “Breakfast hasn’t started yet. I kicked the other two out to the common room with a promise that I would make you tell me why you’ve been acting like Moaning Myrtle lately. Go take your shower, the bacon will still be there.”

With a few mumbled curses about insufferable prats as best friends who won’t let a bloke sleep even on a Saturday, Sirius trudged towards the bathroom, stripping off his blue striped pajamas and stepping into his favorite shower stall.

He stood letting the hot water run over him for a moment before washing his hair. It was while he was soaping himself that he let his mind wander. He started out picturing Martin Gregory bent at just the right angle to show off his perfect arse, letting a hand drift slowly down his chest, pausing to pinch at his nipples as he fantasized. If his mind kept trying to slim out Gregory’s waist and darken his platinum blonde hair he tried very hard to ignore it. He wrapped a hand around his cock and let the soap lubricate his first couple of strokes with his head leaned against the tiles of the stall. 

Finding a good rhythm, he let his other hand stray to play with his bollocks, giving them a light squeeze and then moving back even farther, wincing at the still unfamiliar slight burn. As his fantasy progressed to a blonde head, with hair a little too long for him to truly lie to himself, nestled between his legs making lewd noises he began running his thumb over his sensitive head to collect the spilled pre-come and pick up speed. He was trying desperately not to be an even bigger pervert than he already was and let his mind wonder in the direction of his sandy-haired friend, when the door burst open with a loud bang.

“You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you Padfoot?” The sound of Remus’ voice while he still had one hand on his cock and two fingers slowly thrusting inside himself was nearly enough to finish him off.

“Know anything about what, Moony?” Hoping his voice sounded normal, and that his breathlessness would be attributed to being startled, he quickly took his hands off himself and pressed them firmly to the wall in front of him and poked his head around the Gryffindor red shower curtain to see both Remus and Peter, covered in something blue and sticky, pulling off their clothes. The surge of pure want that went through him at the sight of Remus’ bare, scarred chest with its light brown nipples, too prominent ribs, and slowly appearing hipbones that his trousers peeled away from leaving strands of blue gunk, had him gripping his erection hard so he wouldn’t come with his head sticking out of the shower and his eyes glued to the werewolf. He wanted to clean him off with his tongue, see if he tasted as good as he always smelled.

“The blue doom goo,” Peter grumbled, climbing into the next stall over and starting up the water. “It had to be either you or Prongs that set that giant bubble loose on the unsuspecting common room.” Peter’s complaints managed to jerk his attention away from Remus long enough for him to compose himself slightly.

“And who popped it?” Sirius laughed, pulling his head back in, neither admitting nor denying anything as he turned his faucet to cold.

“I did,” Remus growled, and that was it. The low rumble of his voice sent Sirius over the edge, thick white ropes hitting the pale golden tiles and rinsing down the drain as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood so he wouldn’t make a sound.

As soon as he got his breathing under control he called out, “Blame Prongs for that one, mate,” and slid down the shower wall to huddle at the bottom, shaking. _Merlin, I am so fucked._

*****

Sirius grabbed denims and topped them with a plain white tee-shirt before pulling on his robes and heading down to breakfast. Peter and Remus were still in the showers removing blue goo, and James was nowhere to be seen.

He trudged slowly through the halls, taking the longest route he could think of down to the Great Hall, passing by both the statue of Gibbering Gertrude and the portrait of the dancing dwarves. By the time he finally made it down to the cacophony that was breakfast at Hogwarts he still hadn’t settled his thoughts from his shower. However, before he could sink even further into contemplation of his impending destruction due to his sudden realization that he had probably been in love with Remus for far longer than he had ever realized if just the sound of his voice got him off, he spotted James.

James, who was bright blue.

“I see that Moony and Wormtail got their revenge for the bubble you let loose on them.”

James grunted then blinked up at him. “And why am I the only one? I see that you’re not blue.”

Sirius shrugged and sat. “Maybe Remus likes me more?”

James snorted, but took pity on him and didn’t argue. “I’ve tried everything, Padfoot, I can’t undo this stupid spell. I’m not even sure what Moony hit me with, the clever bastard.” James passed the plate of bacon while he was talking and Sirius filled up his plate.

“Are you going to leave any of that for the rest of us?” Sirius nearly fell out of his seat when Remus spoke almost directly in his ear, the light puff of breath making him shiver.

“I’ll always share with you,” he answered, and then bit down hard on the inside of his lip to keep himself from saying anything else stupid.

James looked torn between reminding him to back off, and laughing now that Sirius was in the same position he was usually in.

“Before you start laughing at my expense, Potter, I would like to point out that Evans seems to have noticed your new skin condition.”

The blush that worked up James’ face turned him an odd shade of purple.

“Do you think if we poked him grape juice would come out?” Peter asked cocking his head to the side and picking up a fork and pointing it at James’ face. In an attempt to avoid being stabbed James leaned back and knocked into Lily Evans, spilling her glass of pumpkin juice all down her robes.

“Can’t you pay attention to anything but yourself even for a moment, Potter?” Lily’s red hair flipped over her shoulder as she stalked off before he could defend himself. It was only when she was at the other end of the long table that she turned back and with a flick of her wand turned his hair into a bunch of daisies.

The table erupted into laughter, although Sirius had to force his when Remus putting a hand on his shoulder to lean around him and grab the bowl of scrambled eggs caused his breath to catch in his throat.

“Hey, look at it this way,” Peter gasped, holding his stomach. “At least she’s giving you flowers. That must count as progress, right?”

Sirius snorted and reached for a piece of bacon only to realize that he had eaten an entire plate full without ever really tasting it. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t enjoyed a piece of bacon.

“Was everyone else’s bacon okay?” he asked, poking at a slightly runny fried egg that he had thought he wanted, but now looked a little too much like the leftovers of a batch of vomiting solution they had botched in a prank attempt third year.

“Fine, why?” Peter asked.

Sirius just shrugged.

“He’s probably trying to convince us that the Slytherins have done something to it so he can have ours,” James grumbled, tugging at the flowers sprouting from his head to no avail.

Smiling, Remus slid a couple of pieces off his own plate onto Sirius’.

“Moony, you don’t have to do that. I wasn’t actually—“

“That’s all right, Padfoot,” Remus cut him off, sounding much calmer than he had earlier. “I’m finished anyway. I don’t mind.”

When Sirius took a bite and the salt and fat exploded on his tongue he nearly groaned out loud. “Why does it taste better from your plate?” he asked before he could stop himself.

James choked on his pumpkin juice, and Remus turned faintly pink, much to Sirius’ surprise.

“All right, mates, planning meeting around the lake for the annual Halloween prank,” James declared, standing up.

Sirius, who was still contemplating how much the light blush staining Remus’ ears made him want to nibble on them saw his shoulders slump slightly at that, and his eyes take on that resigned look the Sirius recognized as meaning that Remus would agree to anything his friends said just because they were his friends.

“Tonight, James.”

“What?” James was looking between him and Remus like something was about to explode. Of course, that might just have been the daisies swaying gently with every movement of his head.

“We’ll have a planning meeting tonight. I promised Moony that I would help him with Potions.”

Remus’ soft brown eyes went wide, and he started chewing on the inside of his cheek. “That’s okay, Pads, you don’t have to. Let’s go with James.”

“See,” James cut in, “Even Moony wants to.”

“No, James. I promised, and I keep my word. Tonight.”

Peter, who glanced between Sirius and Remus a couple of times, clapped James on the shoulder. “Come on, Prongs, let the swots study. The prank will keep one more day. Let’s see if we can’t pick those flowers so you can keep them.”

The idea of having a permanent bouquet of flowers that he could say had been given to him by Lily Evans was enough to distract James, and he wandered out followed by Peter. Sirius mouthed a quiet thank you at their blonde friend just before standing himself. “Alright, Moony. Let’s go see if we can’t make something explode.”

“I don’t think that’s going to help me get through Potions, Pads. Or was that just a cover for some prank you’re planning to pull on Prongs?” Remus’ voice was tinged with amusement, but his eyes had gone flat again.

“Not at all. I just know how things tend to go when we let you near a cauldron.” They paused while Sirius flicked his wand and draped a hallways worth of suits of armor in brightly colored togas.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Remus murmured dryly, adding laurel wreathes to top off the togas. “Besides, I wasn’t the one who dropped a firework into a volatile potion and set the landscaping on fire.”

“Oi, it wasn’t volatile! Besides, I have an idea, and it might involve blowing things up on purpose.”

“Because what fun would studying be if there weren’t explosions involved?”

“You see, you just get me, Moony.” And there it was again, that light blush staining Remus’ pale skin and making Sirius want to lean over and lick him, to nibble on his collarbone and, if he was really lucky, see just how far that tantalizing color went.

“Merlin forbid anyone should ever actually understand what goes on in that head of yours.”

Sirius was too caught up in his contemplation of what Remus would taste like to realize they had reached the portrait hole until he tripped on his way through. Remus caught him, laughing, and propelled him towards the dormitory. Once there Sirius immediately started rummaging through Remus’ trunk.

“And what exactly are you looking for in _my_ trunk that will help me understand this Potions assignment?”

Sirius ignored him in favor of surreptitiously sniffing the cream jumper that Remus favored in cold weather before coming out with a handful of pieces of parchment. Kicking off his trainers, he saw cross legged on his bed and patted a space next to him, holding out the first piece.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek again, Remus hesitated for a minute before sitting down and taking the parchment. “This assignment was from last term, what does it have to do with Sleeping Solutions and Dreaming Draughts?”

“And when you brewed the Patience Potion, which for the record, I think you’ve been secretly taking since first year, what went wrong?”

“It turned that horrible sickly orange color instead of the golden it was supposed to be.”

“And why did it do that?”

“Because I misread dragonsbreath leaves as dragonsbreath petals and it reacted terribly with the powdered malachite. What does that have to –“

“And where is that famous patience now, Moony? Do either of these directions have dragonsbreath petals in them?”

Remus started flipping through _Perfecting Potion Production_ until he found the directions for the two potions in question. “The Dreaming Draught does. So that means you shouldn’t use it with any healing potions with powdered malachite!” He started flipping pages looking for healing potions with powdered malachite.

“And this one?” Sirius handed him another old assignment, fighting off the urge to suck on the long finger that was scanning the ingredients index.

“I accidentally doubled the amount of devilfish eggs and the whole thing exploded.” Catching on, Remus started scanning the ingredients once again. “Which means you probably shouldn’t use a Sleeping Solution with any of the Bone Brews because they all call for devilfish eggs, and that would put the end result in explosion range.”

“And I thought, maybe just for fun, we could have a practical demonstration of one of those explosions. Maybe on, say, Prongs’ bed?”

Remus laughed and set the textbook down. “Sirius, this is brilliant. Thank you.” The smile he flashed at Sirius lit up his whole face, and before Sirius had thought about what he was doing he leaned in and caught it with his own lips.

*****

There was soft, sandy-blonde hair between his fingers and slightly chapped, warm lips beneath his own, and his pulse was pounding so hard in his ears that he couldn’t hear if he was even still breathing. _Fuck! Buggering fuck! What have I done?!_ He was just about to pull back and start begging for forgiveness yet again when he felt a gentle flicker against his lips. Gasping slightly he felt Remus slip his tongue in and tickle the roof of his mouth before tangling it with his own.

Moaning, he pulled back slightly, dizzy from all his blood having fled his brain in the direction of his already aching cock. Remus’ eyes were wide and his breathing was coming in ragged gasps. Pressing their foreheads together Sirius brought his arms up to wrap around the werewolf, clutching at him, afraid he was going to disappear. “Please, Remus, Moony. Please. Need you. Merlin, please.” He only realized he was speaking aloud when he was cut off by a pair of lips reclaiming his own.

The whimpering, strangled noises Remus was making as Sirius ran his fingers feather light up and down his spine were sending tingles straight from Sirius’ lips all the way down to his toes. Catching Remus’ lower lip between his teeth gently, he sucked on it garnering a moan from the other boy before he pulled back, breathing heavily.

Light brown eyes were nearly eclipsed by blown out pupils, and Sirius couldn’t stop whispering, “Remus, oh, Remus,” over and over as he buried his face in the crook of Remus’ neck and bit down lightly. Shivering, Remus let out a groan, his hands scrambling to pull Sirius’ robes over his head. Sirius let go just long enough for them to remove their robes before once more tangling his fingers into soft hair and pulling Remus in for another kiss. He took his time teasing every bump on the roof of Remus’ mouth, tasting faint traces of breakfast mingled with something dark and wild that reminded Sirius of the smell of the forbidden forest at night. He couldn’t get enough.

Carefully, he leaned back, coaxing Remus with him until they were sprawled side by side on his bed. Warm fingers found their way under his tee-shirt and flicked lightly at a nipple and he gasped, arching up into the touch.

Sirius tried very hard to keep his hips still, but when he slid a hand under Remus’ dark grey tee-shirt and traced a fingernail up the length of his spine Remus moaned into his mouth and arched back, pressing a prominent erection into his hip. His own hips thrusting forward involuntarily, Sirius cautiously slid the hand that had previously been tangled in Remus’ hair down until it ghosted over the swell of his arse, pulling him closer. The werewolf thrust against him a couple more times, trailing his lips down Sirius’ neck until he reached his collarbone. Tugging at the collar of Sirius’ shirt, Remus bit down lightly, then growled inarticulately, pulling at the hem of the abused shirt.

Not about to complain at the surprising turn of events, Sirius pulled back just long enough to pull his shirt off, while Remus copied the action. As pale skin littered with scars was revealed inch by inch Sirius squeezed his eyes shut hard and then opened them a couple of times just to make sure Remus was still really there with him. When Remus finally threw his shirt aside Sirius reached out and gently pressed him into the bed. “Merlin, Remus, you are just… you are…” He couldn’t finish, and instead resorted to touching every inch of available skin with fingertips and mouth.

He felt his face heat up when he realized that the feel of warm, pliable skin interspersed with smooth, tough scar, had left a wet patch in his pants that he hoped desperately couldn’t be felt through his denims. The breathless, gasping noises that kept slipping out between Remus’ clenched teeth were making his cock throb. _Sweet Merlin, if he keeps that up I’m going to come all over him._ The thought of spilling himself on his friend was equally mortifying and thrilling.

When he finally took a dusty brown nipple in his mouth Remus yelped and dug blunt fingernails into his back, which made his hips jerk forward. He flicked his tongue against the hardening nub a couple of times before pulling back, allowing his teeth to scrape very lightly against the flesh in his mouth as he did. Remus pressed a fist to his mouth and writhed underneath him before shoving a hand between them and pressing it to the bulge in Sirius’ denims. 

“Fuck! Gods, Remus,” he groaned, pushing forward into that touch until he realized that Remus was trying to undo his flies. He rolled away to allow Remus unhindered access, and the werewolf’s nimble fingers made short work of his clothing. Attempting to reciprocate Sirius found that Remus was just too quick for him, having already stripped his own trousers and pants, leaving them both completely bare.

Taking a couple of deep breaths Sirius tried to calm himself as he drank in the sight of Remus naked and aroused, his cock already leaking slightly onto his own stomach as he lay back down, pulling Sirius with him.

The first touch of hard flesh to hard flesh cause Remus to moan softly, closing his eyes and hitching a leg around Sirius, pulling him in closer. Sirius, who was muttering unintelligible curses under his breath, slid gentle fingers up Remus’ thigh, pausing at his hip. When he met no resistance he trailed those fingers through tight curls to finally close lightly around his friend’s erection. Even catching his bottom lip in his teeth couldn’t keep a sharp cry from escaping Remus at that first touch and Sirius gave in to the urge to recapture those swollen lips.

Kissing Remus, he tugged experimentally a couple of times, swiping his thumb through the moisture that had collected on the reddened head. When Remus bit Sirius’ lip a bit harder than he expected he pulled back slightly and lifted his hand, sucking the thumb coated in pre-come into his mouth. A salty, bitter taste assaulted his tongue and he whimpered around it before trailing kisses down the scar littered body, pausing at a bony hip to bite down gently. Raising his eyes he found Remus watching him, wide eyed, so he tentatively took the mushroomed tip in front of him into his mouth. He nearly choked when Remus’ hips bucked forward, and fingers were tugging at his hair almost immediately. He ignored them in favor of sucking gently, running his tongue up the thick vein on the underside of the other boy’s cock.

When he flicked his tongue against the leaking little slit, however, he felt Remus’ thumb drag across his lower lip before gentle hands pulled him away. Pulse in his throat, Sirius looked up terrified that Remus was going to tell him to stop, because he would even though it was the last thing he wanted. However, Remus was just tugging him up for another kiss.

Using his knees Sirius nudged Remus’ legs apart so he could settle between them while they kissed, circling his hips gently until the werewolf wrapped long legs around his slim waist and arched into him. Mingled pre-come lent ease to their motion as they found a rhythm together. One of Remus’ hands slid down his back to clutch at his arse, long fingers slipping a little with every thrust until they were precariously close to things Sirius had barely begun trying on himself.

Sirius scraped his fingernails over Remus’ ribs and that seemed to be enough to push the other boy over the edge, his face crumpling and mouth coming open in a silent “o”. Being there, feeling Remus spill himself between their stomachs, watching his pleasure skitter across his face, sent a wave of tingling heat through Sirius that finally spilled out of his cock in the best orgasm he had ever had.

Rolling off Remus, Sirius let his breathing slow before reaching for the other boy. Remus flinched slightly when he touched his shoulder and he felt his heart clench. “Remus?”

The werewolf’s eyes were darting all around the room, anywhere he could look except at Sirius. Grabbing his shirt and clutching it to his chest Remus took a few deep breaths before whispering, “What have we done?”  
Sirius couldn't breathe, he felt his throat closing down and his head was spinning. "Remus, please." He didn't know exactly what he was asking for.  
"I'm sorry, Sirius,"

"You're sorry? And which part are you sorry for?”

Remus shrugged, refusing to look at him. “I’m just…” he trailed off, wringing his shirt between his fingers.

“Are you sorry for sleeping with me, sorry for hurting me, or sorry that you ever started speaking to me again? Because honestly, Remus, that was incredible and you’re turning it to shite right now."

Remus cast a hasty cleaning charm and pulled his trousers on huddling into himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek again.

Taking a couple of deep breaths Sirius tried to calm down. Getting angry with Remus wouldn’t make him any more likely to stay. "I would never have touched you if you had asked me to stop, but you didn't. Merlin, Remus, you were the one who took my trousers off. I don't want you to run away on me again when we were just starting to fix this. Please just tell me that you don't hate me." Sirius was trembling, staring at his hands, hands that had just moments before been touching Remus, warm flesh beneath his fingertips.

Remus took a shaky breath and finally looked at Sirius. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I just need some time."

Biting down on his lip hard so that he didn't say anything else he might regret, Sirius pulled his blanket up over himself so that he wasn't the only person in the room still naked. When Remus stood and headed for the door it was all he could do to keep from reaching out for the one thing he truly wanted.

Door half open, Remus stopped and turned around. "Wanting you isn't the problem, Sirius, it never has been. It's trusting you that I'm not sure I can do."

*****  
Sirius didn’t go down to lunch, or dinner. Not long after Remus had left he had pulled on some clothes and grabbed his broom, flying out the window and up to the Astronomy Tower, not wanting to risk Remus still being in the common room. It was only when he started to shiver that he realized it was starting to get dark out.

He felt a warming charm hit him, but didn’t turn around. A second later a few pieces of toast found their way into his lap.

“You missed dinner.”

“I know, Prongs.”

“You also missed our planning meeting.”

“Right, so what clever idea did we come up with for this year?”

“Wormtail and Moony thought it wouldn’t be fair to try and plan without you.”

“So where did you send them off to search for me?”

“Moony is checking the dorm and Wormtail is off to check the kitchens.”

Sirius nibbled on his toast, still staring out across the lake. Watching as the other three had met there and then disbanded he tried to work himself up to joining them. He had nearly talked himself into facing Remus when they split up and he knew it would only be a matter of time before James came to find him. Forgetting to take the map with him when he fled the dorm made it almost inevitable.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No offense, Prongs, but no, I really don’t. I think we got our serious talk for the decade over with this morning.”

Ignoring Sirius, James hopped up and sat on the wall, one leg dangling precariously over the edge. “Did something happen while you and Remus were studying?” Sirius felt his face grow warm, but he didn’t say anything. “Padfoot, what did you do?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it. Can’t you just let it go?”

“If things are going to keep being weird between you two, then no, I can’t.”

“I can’t promise that, Prongs, but I can promise I will talk to him about it. For right now, though, can we go prank the Slytherins or something? I need to blow something up, or earn a detention, or make things sing and dance. I just need to not be thinking about it anymore right now, I’ve spent most of the day doing that already.” Sirius set down the last of his toast, not really hungry, and stood, giving James a light shove. James, who was still balanced half off the wall yelped and, overcompensating, fell onto the tower floor. Chuckling, Sirius pulled him to his feet. “I see that you managed to remove the flowers.”

“Yeah, Pete managed to use a severing charm.” James ran a hand through his unruly, and now daisy free, hair.

“Do you have them in a vase by your bed now, under a heavy stasis charm?” Sirius smirked and headed for the door.

James muttered something about ungrateful gits as best friends, but didn’t answer him. “So, you want to prank the Slytherins?” 

Sirius let him change the subject. “Something huge. Something ingenious. Something…” He trailed off and stared at James.

“What, do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Sirius said slowly. “On your head. Or, at least, you did.”  
James stopped in the middle of the hallway to stare at his friend, who was nearly bouncing with excitement. “You want to give the Slytherins flowers?”  
“Do you think Professor Sprout still has those snapdragon seeds?”

James blinked a couple of times behind his glasses then clapped a hand to Sirius’ shoulder. “Padfoot, mate, you’re more upset than you’re letting on if that’s the best you’ve got. Those are _muggle_ flowers. What sort of prank is that?”

Sirius bared his teeth in a wide smile, his grey eyes sparkling. “Prongs, mate, you’re losing your touch if that’s what you think. They may be muggle flowers, but they’re snap _dragons_.”

James suddenly developed a matching grin. “I still have a little of that exponential elixir in my trunk. You see if you can’t nick some of those seeds.”

Handing James his broom, Sirius veered off and ducked behind the tapestry of Dreaming Drusilla asleep on a pile of books. The passageway hidden there was a short cut to a small door that led out of the castle near the Quidditch pitch that James frequently used when he was running late to practice. 

Just before he slipped out the door he shifted into Padfoot, knowing that without the map or James’ cloak he ran a very good chance of being spotted sneaking into greenhouse 2. The smell of soft earth and decaying leaves hit him and he sneezed once. Remus’ hair had smelled a bit like that earlier, as if he had retained some of the wolf’s wildness. It made Sirius grateful that dogs didn’t cry.

Trotting quickly across the grounds he took the handle to the greenhouse between his teeth, his paws sinking into the soft earth as he tugged and let himself in. The seeds he wanted were easy to sniff out, although he gave a wide berth to the pots of twinkling fairy ivy. It was completely harmless, but, as he found out in second year when he broke out in an itchy, scaly rash, he was incredibly allergic.

He had a bit of a fight when the creeping spider rushes tried to latch on to his tail, but he managed to shake off the last stubborn piece of the plant just as he was putting his paws on the storage cupboard at the back of the greenhouse. Sniffing until he picked out the exact seeds he wanted, he took them very gingerly in his teeth, tail wagging slowly, and trotted towards the door.

Once outside he felt something grab his tail, and he let out a quick yip, dropping the seeds and spinning in a circle. A quiet chuckle had him shifting back.

“Prongs, you berk.”

James pulled the hood of his cloak down, and suddenly there was a floating head hovering next to Sirius. Grinning, the scruffy haired boy adjusted his glasses. “You were taking too long.”

“Well, the next time you have bloody spider rushes wrapped around your tail you see how long it takes you.” Sirius stooped and picked up the package of seeds. “Do we do this out here?”

James frowned. “I think we need to grow them first.”

Shrugging, Sirius tugged on the edge of James’ cloak. “Well, then down to the dungeons we go.”

They barely made it back inside before they ran into Peter, who was coming out of the kitchens with an armload of small sandwiches. “You found him,” he said, waving a sandwich at Sirius and dropping crumbs everywhere.

“Have you been down here the whole time?” James’ eyebrows met his hair.

Peter laughed. “Of course not. When Sirius wasn’t here I went to find Moony in the dorms. Said he hadn’t found him either, but that he wasn’t feeling well and was going go to bed. I was hungry, and I know he didn’t really eat anything at dinner, and Padfoot never even showed up, so I just grabbed enough for everyone whenever they feel the need to come back.”

Sirius felt his heart lurch at hearing that Moony said he wasn’t feeling well, even though he knew it was a ploy to avoid everyone while he berated himself for what had happened between them earlier. He wanted to run up to the dorms and try and immediately fix it, but James put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Good man, Wormtail. Padfoot and I will be up to help eat those shortly. Just have to go deliver some flowers to the Slytherins.”

Sirius took a deep breath. _Right. Remus doesn’t want to talk to you right now. Prank._

Peter blinked owlishly a couple of times. “Flowers. To the Slytherins,” he enunciated slowly, shaking his head. “You two have gone mental.”

“Come on, Padfoot,” James grinned. “Brilliance awaits.” He handed his cloak to Peter to use to get back to the dorms.

The blonde looked startled, but took it willingly. James shrugged. “Padfoot and I don’t both fit under it anymore. You might as well get to use it to make sure that food gets someplace where I can have some.”

Sirius snorted. “How you eat so much and don’t blow up to the size of Hagrid I’ll never know.”

“Quidditch,” Peter deadpanned from under the cloak.

James threw a quick stinging hex in the direction of his voice, but it bounced harmlessly off the wall when Peter, anticipating retaliation, dodged deftly. Not being able to see him under the cloak James started listening intently to try and hear where their friend was moving.

“Come on, Prongs. Brilliance, remember?” Sirius interrupted.

There was a tense moment on the way down to the dungeons where they had to duck into an empty classroom to avoid Professor McGonagall and Professor Kettleburn walking down the hall discussing the possibility of a shipment of Clabberts, which Professor McGonagall was decidedly against. Once they were out of earshot it was a short, uneventful trip down to the dungeons.

Holding up an innocuous looking package of seeds Sirius grinned. “All right, Prongs, let’s get to work.”

*****

Sirius waited until James had finished his excruciatingly long shower and was snoring in the bed across the room before finally climbing out of his bed and through Remus’ curtains. The werewolf was curled up in a ball on his side, motionless, but Sirius knew better.

“I know you’re awake. You toss in your sleep. But that’s okay, you don’t need to acknowledge me right now. Might be easier if you don’t, actually.” He ran his fingers through hair still damp from his own shower, which he had needed after finishing growing a field of snapdragons. Remus twitched slightly, but didn’t move. “I know I should have stopped us earlier. I should never have let it get that far. I’ve just fancied you for so long that I was sure I was dreaming. Oh, I’ve never been ready to admit it to myself, but that doesn’t make it less true.”

There was still no movement from his friend, but Sirius sat quietly for a moment just watching Remus breathe, his skin paler than normal against the red sheets, his hair darkened by the dim lighting. He fought off the urge to reach out and touch. That was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. Or maybe it was second place.

Taking a tremulous breath Sirius chuckled humorlessly. “Merlin, I never thought this would be harder than admitting I fancy you. Fuck, I probably love you, although I’m a little shaky on the specifics of the difference.” He drew his knees up and sat quietly, staring at the closed curtains. Finally, the words started to trickle out, hesitantly.

“The first time my parents cursed me into obedience I was twelve. I was mouthing off about how I knew they wouldn’t care about my grades because nothing could make up for my being sorted wrong as far as they were concerned. Yeah, I probably taunted them into it, I usually do, but they had never even struck me before. Before Hogwarts they were, maybe not kind, but certainly never cruel. More disinterested.” He paused when he felt Remus shift beside him, but he didn’t look and when Remus didn’t say anything he continued. 

“The thing is, I don’t think they saw it as anything more than disciplining a house elf. It was like, once I wasn’t their perfect Slytherin clone I was no longer their child. I wasn’t even allowed to call them mother and father anymore. They never struck Regalus. He knew how to keep his mouth shut better.” He snorted. “Merlin knows it would be hard to be worse at it.” 

Sirius shrugged and closed his eyes. “The worst part about it is that sometimes I miss them. No matter how they treated me towards the end, they were still my family. I don’t want to miss them, but I can’t seem to stop. Especially Regulus. We were close once, and I think, somewhere under all the brainwashing, he remembers that. He must. I didn’t tell you, but he owled me when I left home to tell me that mum… that she blasted me off the family tapestry.”  
Sirius shook his head and wrapped his arms around his knees. “The first time my mother called me a filthy blood traitor it hurt. A lot. But, after losing count of how many times I heard it, it stopped hurting. No, it’s more like I went into my own head and stopped hearing it. You start to get lost inside your head as a way to not have to be there. Everything starts to be sort of automatic.”

There was a loud noise from Peter’s bed. Sirius froze, listening to him toss, waiting until their blond friend was still again.  
“I know you only started speaking to me again after what happened last year because James flooed you when I wouldn’t tell him why I ran away. I couldn’t tell him. Not because it was that bad, but because it wasn’t. It had been a normal night. I was trying to work out the stiffness of two hours in a full body bind, thinking about what sorts of food James might have stashed in his room and the next thing I knew I was on the street with my trunk. I never made the choice to leave. Sometimes I spend so much time hiding in my head that I forget to come out, or even realize that I’m doing it.” 

He shook his head, damp hair falling in his eyes. “After a while, you stop feeling anything. You shut it all down in a sort of self-preservation. Food stops tasting good, music no longer means anything, there is nothing to get excited over, because you know that it’s always fleeting and that you will hurt again soon enough. So you stop wanting, because that just leads to more pain and because once you’ve learned that you don’t matter, nothing else really matters anymore, either. 

“But you, you make me want. You make me feel like what I do might occasionally matter. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way, Remus. Or wanted anything. Oh, I can get excited about a good prank, or decide that homework sounds boring, or laugh when Evans gets one over on Prongs again, but that’s all superficial. A prank is over the second it’s been set in motion, and homework still needs to be done, no matter how boring it is. None of it gets through this sort of numbing. You make me want all the time. You make me want to be better.”

Letting out a shaky laugh Sirius looked down at Remus, who hadn’t moved, but was at least watching him with wide eyes. “I had never really thought about any of this before, but I spent a lot of time thinking about it after you left this morning. You said you didn’t trust me.” 

Remus opened his mouth as if to finally speak, but Sirius cut him off. “That hurt. Especially after what we had just done. I mean, Merlin, that was my first kiss let alone anything more. But I think, in the long run, you’re right. I don’t think you should trust me, Remus. I can’t tell you why I sent Snape to the Willow that night because I don’t know. He was spouting the same horrible shite that my family spews at me all the time and it was like I was standing in my parent’s parlor being told what a worthless excuse for a son I was, wasting my time with halfbreeds and blood traitors. 

“It was like he flipped a switch I wasn’t really aware I had. I was trying not to hear it, telling myself how nice it would be if I never had to listen to any of that shite ever again, and the next thing I knew I was in Dumbledore’s office. I never mean to do it, but it’s always too late when the damage is done, and all I can do is turn around and see what I’ve left in my wake. You shouldn’t trust me, because sometimes I get so lost in trying to tune it all out that I tune myself out, which means I can’t promise you I wouldn’t do it again. I can promise I would never hurt you intentionally, but I’m not sure that counts for much right now. I’m a mess, Moony, and I think you were right to not want anything to do with me.” 

Tentatively he reached out and gently brushed one finger over the back of Remus’ hand. “I’m not telling you all of this so you’ll forgive me. I don’t think you should. But I know you, Remus. I’m telling you so that maybe, if you understand at least a little bit, you’ll stop blaming yourself, because I know you are. Probably have been since it happened. I know I’m a mess, but I won’t help drag you down with me.”

He watched Remus for a moment longer, then tried to stand and leave. However, he barely reached out to open the curtains when a hand closed around his wrist. There was a sharp intake of breath at the contact, and he wasn’t sure if it had come from Remus or himself. The heartbeat pounding in his ears, however, was all his own. Turning around he caught Remus’ eyes just before the werewolf started speaking.

“When James flooed me that night,” Remus started hesitantly, still holding on to Sirius’ arm, “he said that you had left home, and that you were a mess. He wanted me to come and see if I could find out what had happened since you wouldn’t tell him.”

“You mentioned that that morning. Said he thought you could shock it out of me.” When Sirius spoke the fingers on his wrist tightened for a moment, then relaxed, although they didn’t let go. Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand over the one holding him.

“Yeah.” Remus let out a stuttering breath. “But what I didn’t tell you was that when he showed up I told him to bugger the fuck off. Asked him why I should give a niffler’s backside about you when you clearly didn’t give a toss about me. And do you know what he said?”

Sirius shook his head, not trusting his voice at this point. A dry chuckle escaped Remus’ lips, and he unwrapped his fingers from around Sirius’ arm but rather than pull back he laced their fingers together. Sirius marveled at how warm and solid that hand felt in his own.

“He said I probably shouldn’t care after what you did, but that whether or not I _should_ care had very little relevance to whether or not I _did_ care. And the worst part was, the bastard was right. I didn’t want to forgive you for using me like that. Probably because I’ve fancied you for years and if you were willing to use me that way how else would you be willing to use me. It meant I couldn’t trust your motives, and that meant I had to give up on deluding myself that you were looking at me the way I wanted you to. But the problem with fancying you is that it’s far too easy to forgive you for things I probably shouldn’t.” 

He squeezed Sirius’ hand. “So I showed up, and you looked so lost. But then, the way you looked at me. Merlin, Sirius, it was like I was the only thing that could save you from whatever monsters you were facing.”

Sirius cocked his head and studied Remus’ face for a moment before shrugging. “You are.”

A sardonic smile flitted across Remus’ face. “Takes a monster to fight off the monsters, huh?”

Sirius growled and jerked Remus to him by their still linked hands. He leaned in till their noses were near touching before hissing, “Don’t you _ever_ call yourself a monster again.”

Remus made a helpless little noise in the back of his throat then leaned in the last couple of inches to brush their mouths together. The touch was barely a flicker, just the barest hint of pressure, but Sirius felt like all the tension he had been carrying melted out of him.

Pulling back wide eyed Remus whispered, “You really want this, me? You weren’t just horny and I was just… there, this morning?”

“If all I had wanted was a meaningless shag don’t you think I would have just gone and found one of the birds that are always staring at me?”

Remus snorted softly, tightening his grip on Sirius’ hand. “The way you stare at Martin Gregory’s arse in Herbology? Not likely.”

Flushing, Sirius disentangled their fingers so he could catch Remus’ face between his hands, his thumbs brushing just below his soft brown eyes. “Remus, Moony, you could never be ‘just there’.”

This time, the way his heart tripped over itself when Remus smiled didn’t scare him at all, and he leaned down to catch that smile in a gentle kiss.

*****

At breakfast the next morning Remus sat on Sirius’ left and was filling both their plates with bacon when Professor McGonagall stormed past. Her hat was askew and she batted at it distractedly. Muttering under her breath she glanced around until she saw Professor Sprout. “Pomona!”

The grey haired, smiling woman scurried over. “Did you need something, Minerva?”

“You wouldn’t have any ideas for getting rid of a field of snapdragons blocking the entrance to the Slytherin dungeons, would you?”

Peter glanced up at this, but both Sirius and James were resolutely staring at their plates trying not to acknowledge each other at all.

“Snapdragons shouldn’t be a difficulty at—” 

Professor McGonagall cut her off curtly as she started walking, the other woman in tow. “They have teeth and breathe fire if anyone gets near them.”  
The last thing they heard was Professor Sprout exclamation of “Oh dear!” before the two women disappeared out of the Great hall.  
James and Sirius both managed to keep straight faces for nearly a full minute after the professors had left before finally bursting out laughing.

“Is that what you two were up to last night?” Peter asked in awe.

They just grinned at him.

“And what exactly are we all going to have detention for this time?” Remus asked.

“Nothing for you to worry your pretty head over, Moony,” Sirius chuckled, mussing up the werewolf’s hair and making him blush.

James frowned at them, but didn’t say anything. It was Peter who spoke up. “So, have the two of you finally decided to start snogging and put the rest of us out of your misery?” They all gaped at him. 

“What? Shall I continue to pretend that I haven’t noticed that Padfoot stopped staring at Martin Gregory’s arse a couple of weeks ago and started looking at Moony instead? Or that the only reason Moony never noticed is that he only looks at Padfoot when he thinks no one will see the way his eyes glaze over?”

“You knew?” James spluttered while Sirius threw a sausage at Peter’s head.

“Sometimes I worry for my sanity, putting up with the lot of you,” Remus muttered as he added eggs to Sirius’ plate. The sting of his words was softened when he took Sirius’ hand under the table, lacing their fingers together as they ate. Sirius found that his bacon had never tasted so good.


End file.
